


I Once Was Lost... And Now Am Found

by Aequitas_Arisen



Series: Homestuck AU; Sci-Fi tangent... god I'm bored [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Contemplations of Suicide, Despair, Grief/Mourning, Homestuck AU, Need storybuilding skills!!!, Prequel, Really more of a backstory for my other story (part 1 of this series), Some pretty detailed theories, Survival Training, god I'm lazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:42:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aequitas_Arisen/pseuds/Aequitas_Arisen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prequel to my other story, (part 1 of this series) I would read that one first, and skip this one until later, this is just to fill some holes and clear up some backstory.</p>
<p> (Seriously, If you haven't read the other one, you will not understand a darn thing. There's some questionable theories at work here.)</p>
<p>Takes place in a Homestuck AU in which there was no Sgrub session, Rebellionstuck. </p>
<p>How Disciple met Nepeta. It just so happens that Nepeta's cave was in the same forest in which The Disciple took refuge after the Signless's execution. They both quickly discover that Nepeta is her descendant. Although The Disciple is torn by grief and despair, Nepeta implores her to train her and the Disciple's hope for her beloved's revolution is rekindled with time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Once Was Lost... And Now Am Found

**Author's Note:**

> So... yeah. 
> 
> My brain started to do a little chain-stoking while I was writing Chapter 8 of Insurrection Contention in my comp. book over lunch, and I needed to nudge out some of the things that I had explanations for myself, but not you guys. So, to be fair to you, here's some back story. 
> 
> Geez, the more I work on this whole thing, the more I actually want to work on it. Just that stuff keeps crawling out of my brain that's been capped in there for a long time. 
> 
> I feel like this particular work will just be full of Dune references. (Once again, I apologize, it's one of my favorite books) Obvious references to Bene Gesserit customs and training. (Which is really just commanding control over reflexes and combat and what-not) But not quite, but I took a few ideas, so just, whatever. it's there. 
> 
> Oh! One more thing: I have a couple theories.  
> In this one, The Disciple is a former laughsassin and that's where she got the advanced training. The way she met Signless was during her first assassination mission when the young Signless (then, young instigator of a revolution) was her target. And then obviously, she abandoned it to join his cause and became his matesprit and confidant.  
> Also: my own theory that when laughssassins complete their training they receive a claw tattoo on their collarbone and that's why Nepeta begs her to give her the training, as she recognized the tattoo. 
> 
> Told from the point of view of the Disciple, then switches to Nepeta's in chapter 3. 
> 
> I think this will just be 3(?) chapters. (geez, I hope so, I can't handle 2 huge fics at once)  
> No smut, but with some romance. (sorry) It's really more like sadstuck, but lots of Signless and Disciple's relationship and how they met. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm gonna shut up now and let you read, sorry :) Hope my unattractive ramblings were easily decoded and/or helpful.

I had finally made it. 

Finally made it through the graduated ranks of my training in the initiate forces of the Laughsassins.

I felt like I should be proud, as the masked senior filling in the Mark said I should be, but for some reason, I didn't feel honorable at all. Pounce had always taught me about being fair to little woodland creatures and kill only for food and skins, as well as how to fend for myself. She had always been especially loving and caring, which was more than could be said for most other lusii.

 

It is also likely why I began to question the authority after the first trial. 

 

When I was initiated, it wasn't just me. There were at least a dozen trainees. We survived the first level. We set out in the forest to survive. I was hard during those rainy months, and I lost two of the friends I had made. Pounce had encouraged me to try to make friends, to try to be happy during my training, and that  I would see her again when I came home for graduation. It's strange, really, to see those trolls, incredibly skilled fighters with amazing potential and so much personality make it through the painstaking Laughsassin reflex and mind training, only to die of exposure.

 

In the start, I was not outstanding, not particularly strong. But during the survival test, I discovered my distinct advantage. The others lacked stealth, and chased game in the forest loud and clumsily. Because of the skills Pounce taught me, I survived, though it was cold and like nothing I'd ever withstood before. I stayed alive on very little, but it was more than anyone else had in the wilderness. 

With hardly any strength left, I climbed the waterfall, the goal we'd been working towards through our hardship, and found the homing device.

There were three survivors.Three out of a dozen.

But that wasn't brought me to inwardly hate and resent the regime. The others, my comrades through our struggle, we were pitted against each other in the first trial. It was kill or be killed. By the end, in the flurry of confusion, I had their blood on my hands. I only defended myself. 

That night was the first time I stole into the vents to cry, and again every night after that.

 

~~~

 

I underwent the advanced reflex training, controlling tiny muscles and manipulating the path of the mind; to glide in silence and use lithe movements in plain view without being seen. The mind is geared to detect movement. It is an instinct, a simple alignment in the mind to protect the body from attack. An amateur dwells in the corners of the eyes, where the target is expecting attack. They easily attract attention and are doomed to failure. The true assassin uses the movement of the surroundings, the shift of shadows, the dust in the air, the rhythm of breath, every detail is an advantage to be exploited. Wrapping yourself in shadow to get near to the target and finish the mission with complete obedience to orders is what they used their sadistic teaching techniques to teach me. 

I obeyed and trained by day, and questioned and found answers by night. Without a sound I wove through the vents, eavesdropping and observing. I found that I was one of hundreds of potential Laughsassins cycling through the training. Others were being subjected to the same agonies and emotional tortures as myself. It was the Empire's factory for killers, and only a small percentage would become established assassins. The rest would be discarded until they had their force of perfect murder machines. 

 

The Laughsassins. The Black Arm of the Empire. Where Subjuggulators mowed down the lowbloods and let blood spill in the streets, the Laughsassins crept in undetected, quietly fulfilling the purpose they were born of pain and perversion to do. 

 

I wondered if this is what I wanted for myself. I had no idea what else I was to do.  I couldn't leave. I would be totally alone to be hunted down and executed for defection. 

No, I would stay. There is no way they could know I wasn't responding properly to the training. 

Needless to say, by the time they finally gave me my final trial, I had a plan. I made sure of that after rifling in the papers in the Mission Commander's office. My hands shook as read what the final trial was. 

 

The final trial was to kill my lusus and present it before the Commander. 

 

For the first time in five sweeps of training, I was finally able to go home, something that should be a joyous occasion, and it was to kill my lusus. I reset the papers and lifted soundlessly back into the vent, though my emotions commanded I weep as soon as I was out of hearing range.

I didn't flinch when they actually assigned my trial. I was prepared, showing no weakness. 

 

~~~

 

Pounce was overjoyed to see me, tackling me to the ground and giving me her greeting with a pair of rough tongues raked up my cheeks. 

She nuzzled me when I began to cry. I cried and held her until I just couldn't cry anymore, staining her fur a light olive. I pushed her off of me. She looked distressed, trying to comfort and cuddle me.  I only shoved her away once again. 

"Run Pounce, go!" Confused, she tried again.

I hissed and growled, lashing out.

"Go Pounce.They ordered me to kill my own lusus..." I sobbed as I told her this. "Go. Run, Pounce."

Tentatively, she gave me a last kiss with a rough tongue before bounding off in to the forest. As I watched her nimbly disappear, it began to rain to match my tears.  I sent a silent prayer to the Universe then, that that would be the last tragic goodbye I would have to make with someone I loved.

I was young then, I had not yet learned that life is dotted with tragedy, and more than a few bitter goodbyes.

 

~~~

 

The dead pawbeast I presented for my trial was not Pounce. It was some other unfortunate feline I happened upon and butchered in my sorrow. 

My face was a wall of indifference when I presented the carcass, throwing it before the Mission Commander with a loud _thunk._ I threw back my shoulders, trying to appear proud of my kill, though inside, I was holding back the hand twitching closer to the blade at my side.

An untrained eye would be unable to detect the slight lift of the skin over the jugular with each pulse of the bloodpusher,  but in that moment, my eyes were fixed, imagining the glisten of her teal blood on my blade. I knew, however, I would never win such a fight. This was a killer to the core. I was a simple initiate. 

I decided to gain in rank, get closer and become a trusted tool of the Empire. Perhaps then, with that power I could defy them. But it frightened me to stand alone in such an endeavor.

 

"Excellent work, Leijon. You are now a graduated Laughsassin."

I gave a slight bow, right on cue.

"Report back for your mission in an hour. In that time, be present for your Marking appointment. We'll see you back after."

I bowed lower, clenching my fists behind my back and out of sight. 

 

Oh, _I'll be seeing you, Mission Commander. Sooner than you think. But you won't be seeing me._

I saluted in the traditional manner with a fist pressed to the bloodpusher, and backed out of the door.

 

_~~~_

 

The Marking took less time than I expected.

Running a digit over the shiny black mark, I could see it was no longer than the length of than a finger bone, a claw-shaped memento just beneath my collar. For each finished mission, a dot would be added above the curve. The Mission Commander had an impressive column, it snaked around her neck, and to her cheek. 

_I can do better._ _I'll beat the bastards at their own game._

Once again, I ventured unseen into the vents. I headed directly through the labyrinthine system to the small shaft atop the Commander's office, catching a conversation between the Commander and some other trainer mid sentence. I entered the shadow-state. I disciplined my breathing into a rhythm-less appeal and slowed the heart as was taught to me, and crept near the grate.

 

"... the Leijon initiate. Her training is deteriorating. She's beginning to question?"

"Yes, Commander, it seems so. Perhaps for a while, now. She has a quickened heart rate during the Litany of Allegiance, and hesitates during battle. The observer we had trail her for her Final trial also reports the pawbeast was a false lusus." 

"Alright, then. Dispatch her."

 

I nearly lost it then, but stayed silent, though inside I raged. 

 

"We shall discard her after her mission. It's low profile, just one lowblood inciter, nothing to waste one of our own the trouble."

"Speaking of Leijon, she's nearly late. Goes to show, I suppose."

 

They were going to kill me anyway. After all that time, I wanted to scream and tear their faces from them with my claws.

They probably would have anyway, just because of my blood. 

 

I made my way promptly to the office via the hallway, containing my fury as they gave me my mission. 

"Now, Leijon, this is a mission of the utmost importance, it's unusual we give such a high profile assignment to a newly Marked Laughsassin."

_Filthy liar._

"Yes, ma'am it will be completed to the letter." I accepted my first and only mission, but had no intention of completing it. I was leaving the force. Permanently. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Whewie.  
> Okay then. This is probably the most elaborate theory I've come up with.
> 
> It's probably not even that original, but I just can't stomach dime-a-dozen smut lacking creativity, let alone writing it. I just.. mm don't like it.  
> I'm getting there. Gimme some time and input, if you can.  
> Seriously, if there's a time and place to make an ass of yourself, it's on the internet. You can't let the world judge you too much.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you're having a good day, and if not, hope it gets better.
> 
> This has been Sunday Edition of my brain ramblings, leave input in the comments below or kudos if you liked it :)  
> Or not, I don't know your life.


End file.
